


Fair Warning

by CynicalLion



Series: Fathoms of Depravity Shorts [3]
Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sinclair, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Descent, Smoking, Top Fontaine, banter as foreplay, men in lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalLion/pseuds/CynicalLion
Summary: Fontaine and Sinclair get together for one last hurrah before the age of Atlas begins.
Relationships: Frank Fontaine/Augustus Sinclair
Series: Fathoms of Depravity Shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875355
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Fair Warning

It was late when Augustus Sinclair finally excused himself from work and made his way up out of the bowels of Persephone and onto the streets of Rapture. Normally he tried not to work so late, or so hard, but he was right on the brink of a breakthrough with his newest line of Plasmids and he'd gotten lost in pouring over data reports. Taking a moment to light up a cigarette once he was out on the streets, Sinclair's attention was caught by another individual who seemed to just be getting off of work. A ways away, Frank Fontaine stood not that far from the entrance to his own business headquarters lighting up a cigar.

Seeing as he didn't make a habit of working this late, this was a rare occurrence. One Sinclair planned on taking advantage of. As Fontaine started to walk, Sinclair crossed the street and the sound of his approach drew Fontaine's eye. Fontaine smiled when he saw who was approaching him and slowed his stride, making Sinclair's pleasant expression pull into something a little more genuinely pleased.

"Fancy seein' you out n' about this late, Mr. Sinclair." Fontaine teased as Sinclair joined him.

"Why, you took the very words right out of my mouth, Mr. Fontaine." Sinclair replied, tucking his free arm across his chest and under the one holding his cigarette holder. "I suppose you're used to seein' this ungodly hour, but I'm usually tucked away in my lovely apartment by now." He mentioned, glancing over at his companion. "How you manage to work so damn much is simply beyond little ol' me."

"I do alotta coke." Fontaine dead-panned, breaking into a grin when Sinclair uncrossed his arm just to smack his upper arm. "Guess I'm just real work-oriented." He said, giving his arm a courtesy rub despite Sinclair not hurting him.

"Well, Rapture's definitely the right place for the extraordinarily work-oriented." Sinclair said, coming a little closer to Fontaine when they came out onto one of the more trafficked areas of Rapture and the streets got more crowded. Thanks to the lack of sunlight, and despite how the overhead lights dimmed to mimic a day and night cycle, people made their own circadian rhythms in Rapture so it was easy to find someone out and about no matter what hour it was. "Still, you need to find a balance, Franky." Sinclair continued, tapping the briefcase in Fontaine's hand. "Bringin' work home with you is bad for your health."

"Havin' downtime's bad for my health." Fontaine replied, taking a drag from his cigar. "The only thing worth doin' that ain't workin' is only fun with another person present and I don't have a fancy Eve's Garden hooker I can call on whenever it suits me."

"Bullshit." Sinclair scoffed, matching Fontaine's raised eyebrow. "If you sauntered yourself down to Eve's Garden and announced you were lookin' for some company, you'd have the unbridled pleasure of witnessin' an all-out bloodbath as those _performers_ all fought for the chance of becomin' the second most wealthy man in Rapture's Jasmine Jolene." He said, poking Fontaine's arm. "And I know it'd be a pleasure because as civil as you pretend to be, I happen to be familiar with the animal under that suit."

Laughing loud enough that he drew a few curious stares that he ignored, Fontaine shot Sinclair a fond smile. "Was a stroke'a genius buildin' Futuristics right next to your place was. You're a goddamn delight, Augustus Sinclair."

Smiling, Sinclair laughed much more softly than Fontaine. "Flatterer." He muttered happily, taking Fontaine's briefcase without thinking when he handed it to him. By the time he realized he was now holding Fontaine's briefcase, he frowned a bit and looked down at it. He then looked at Fontaine and realized he was paying for the bathysphere ride to Olympus Heights. "You're such a gentleman." Sinclair half-joked as he handed Fontaine his briefcase back, standing by the animal comment but able to concede that as much as Fontaine's civil act was just that, an act, he **was** very committed to it.

"It's one'a my biggest weaknesses." Fontaine joked back, motioning at the bathysphere. "After you, Sin." He grinned as Sinclair blushed at the nickname and boarded the bathysphere. Fontaine shamelessly enjoyed the view from behind before also boarding and got comfortable next to Sinclair, setting his briefcase aside so he could wrap an arm around the shorter man's shoulders.

Humming softly as he was quickly enveloped by Fontaine's scent, Sinclair leaned against the younger man. "Awful presumptuous of you, Franky. I might just pepper spray you."

Chuckling, Fontaine shrugged a bit. "I'd like it."

Scoffing, Sinclair shoved Fontaine and tried not to get distracted by the way he didn't budge even a little. "Not even **you** could take a shot of pepper spray to the eyes and still be ready to hop in the sack. I don't believe a word of it." He argued, getting a little distracted despite himself and rubbing his hand along Fontaine's hard chest.

"Now which one of us needs to pepper sprayed? Look at you feelin' me up." Fontaine teased, grinning when Sinclair raised an eyebrow at him and dipped his hand lower to his stomach.

"Tell me to stop, Franky."

Humming, Fontaine looked away to take the final drag from his cigar, reaching over to snuff the stub out on the built-in ashtray on the wall.

"That's what I thought." Sinclair said, grinning when Fontaine raised an eyebrow at **him** then. "What? We both know you're easy, Franky." He said, gasping when he suddenly found himself on his back against the cushions of the bathysphere's seat. Fontaine was between his legs now, staring down at him with those deep brown eyes that appeared black in the low light of the bathysphere. One of the younger man's large hands was easily holding both of Sinclair's wrists and with as much blood that was rushing south, you wouldn't think there'd be any left to color Sinclair's cheeks, but you'd be wrong.

"I may be easy," Fontaine started, leaning down to murmur in Sinclair's ear and dipping his hips a bit to grind against the older man's slowly filling-out erection. "but what's that make you?"

"A slut, I imagine." Sinclair breathed, managing a smile when Fontaine jerked back to laugh.

"That's my line, you thief!" He said, grinning at Sinclair, his predatory air gone just like that despite the fact that he was still holding Sinclair down.

"Shouldn'ta phrased it as a question if you didn't want an answer, Franky." Sinclair responded easily, letting Fontaine help him back into a sitting position as he moved back and off of him.

"Touche." Fontaine replied, glancing out of the bathysphere window before looking back to his travel companion. "Wanna spend the night at my place?"

"Feelin' lonesome, Franky?" Sinclair half-teased, raising an eyebrow at Fontaine.

Laughing softly, Fontaine shook his head and shrugged. "Might be in the mood to snuggle after plowin' a handsome Southern gentleman into my mattress, but Frank Fontaine doesn't do lonely."

Flushing all over again despite himself, Sinclair nudged Fontaine. "Did God give you that gift with words or was that somethin' you had to pay for?" He joked, following Fontaine out of the bathysphere when it docked. Luckily he'd managed to go down a bit by then.

"Ah, don't tell anyone, but I did happen to meet a rather suave guy in a suit once when I was young. We mighta made a couple of agreements for things money can't buy." Fontaine replied, grinning when Sinclair gave him an unamused frown.

"That is not funny, Mr. Fontaine." He scolded, unable to keep himself from smiling a bit when Fontaine chuckled.

"Not my fault you're like the only person in this fishbowl who believes in that sorta thing. Makes you a real easy target, Sin." Fontaine responded, glancing at Sinclair from the corner of his eye.

"I was raised on _that sorta thing_." Sinclair responded, pinching Fontaine's side and grinning when Fontaine actually jumped and looked at him in surprise. "Doesn't necessarily mean I believe, just means you never know and that if I was gonna believe anyone I ever met knew the devil, it'd be you."

"I'm flattered?" Fontaine replied, rubbing his side a bit and boarding the elevator that would take him and Sinclair to the upper levels of Mercury Suites. He hit the button for Sinclair's floor and tried to focus on not fidgeting for the elevator ride up.

Shaking his head, Sinclair smiled at Fontaine. "Lemme grab somethin' a little more comfy to wear from my place and then I'll let you make good on that offer to plow me into your mattress."

Doing a flawless job of hiding how relieved he was that Sinclair was coming over, Fontaine smirked and nodded, stepping out of the elevator with Sinclair but waiting nearby as Sinclair went to his own apartment. Once Sinclair disappeared inside, Fontaine sighed and let his expression drop into a light frown. He quickly hunted down a cigarette and lit up, finding an old crumpled pack in his jacket pocket. Fontaine took a deep drag and let the smoke out slow, letting the nicotine calm his frayed nerves.

Though he wasn't ready to tell Sinclair, this would probably be the last time they'd get to spend time together like this. He was getting ready to hammer the final nail into Frank Fontaine's coffin and let Sullivan finally pin down his criminal operation which meant it was nearly time for his next great act to begin. There wouldn't be any downtime for plowing handsome business rivals once that happened. It was exciting and nerve-wracking in equal measure and Fontaine had been increasingly on-edge as the days to his grand finale and grander rebirth ticked by.

By the time Sinclair returned, Fontaine had finished his cigarette and schooled his face into something a little more cheerful. Sinclair offered him a smile and Fontaine returned it, reboarding the elevator and putting in the code for his penthouse. "I love how you look in blue." Fontaine hummed, fingering one of the buttons of Sinclair's business casual shirt.

"Oh, I know you do." Sinclair replied, unbuttoning the third button, the topmost buttoned one, and pulling his shirt aside to reveal pale blue lace underneath the rich blue shirt. He quickly refastened the button, only giving Fontaine a glimpse and grinned at the hungry look in his eyes. "You seem extra tense this evenin', so I thought I'd spoil you a bit."

"Sweeter than sugar, Mr. Sinclair." Fontaine hummed, smirking at Sinclair.

"So, you are tense, then?" Sinclair asked, exiting the elevator with Fontaine and looking at him as they passed his gaudy rock garden.

"Maybe a little." Fontaine admitted, opening the door for Sinclair and entering his apartment after him.

"Stressful day at work?" Sinclair pressed, tilting his head at Fontaine and giving him a much more genuine expression of concern now that it was just the two of them.

"Somethin' like that." Fontaine responded, hanging up his coat by the door and offering Sinclair as fake a smile as ever. "Want somethin' to drink?"

"Well, you **do** mix the best strawberry martinis I've ever had." Sinclair hummed, following Fontaine into his lounge and plopping down on a plush couch as Fontaine walked behind the large bar there and got mixing.

"I only learned to make the damn things cuz you like 'em so much." Fontaine said, making himself a quick and simple scotch on the rocks that he downed in one go before carrying on with Sinclair's drink. Once Sinclair's was finished, he poured himself another scotch and walked over, sitting beside the older man and handing him his drink.

"How sweet." Sinclair said, taking his drink and leaning up to peck Fontaine on the cheek. "Thanks, Franky." He whispered in Fontaine's ear, grinning at the low rumble he got for his efforts. Pulling away, Sinclair sipped his drink and sighed happily. "You musta been a bartender in another life."

Chuckling softly, Fontaine took a swig from his own drink. "Somethin' like that." He replied, waving a dismissive hand at Sinclair when he raised a curious eyebrow at him. "One'a these days I'll tell you all about my past lives, Sin, but today ain't that day."

Looking confused, Sinclair sipped his drink and looked Fontaine over. "Didn't take you for someone who buys into reincarnation, Franky."

Smirking coyly at Sinclair, Fontaine finished off his drink. "I don't."

Sighing, Sinclair shook his head. "Sometimes talkin' to you is like tryin' to divine the future from bird droppin's." He grumbled, smiling a bit when Fontaine laughed.

"Never heard that one before." Fontaine said, grinning at Sinclair and seeing that he was just about done with his drink. "Want another?"

"I really shouldn't, but I suppose it'd be rude to refuse." Sinclair hummed, watching as Fontaine got up and went over to the bar. "Forget somethin', Franky?" He asked, shaking his cup at Fontaine. Then his eyes widened as Fontaine turned to him with the gin he'd used to make the first martini in hand and tipped the bottle back, downing the entire half bottle without so much as grimacing. Sinclair's jaw was hanging open as Fontaine removed the bottle from his lips and shook it a little, frowning theatrically at it.

"Looks like I'm outta gin." He mumbled, snapping his fingers and grinning at Sinclair. "Oh, you know what? I got another bottle in the upstairs lounge. We should head upstairs."

"That was still half a bottle!" Sinclair shouted, shocked and a tad horrified. "You-- no, don't laugh! It's not funny!" He shouted, looking around Fontaine at the empty bottle on the bar as he came over, indeed laughing. "I can see more gin on the shelf! If you wanted to get me upstairs, there were easier ways!"

Amused at Sinclair's reaction, Fontaine leaned over the older man, grinning. "The good gin's upstairs." He insisted, taking Sinclair's free hand and hoisting him off of the couch easily.

Sighing in defeat, Sinclair smacked Fontaine on the chest. "It ain't right for a man to be able to hold his liquor as well as you do. You have a serious problem, Franky."

"Or a serious talent." Fontaine argued, leading Sinclair upstairs by the hand. When Sinclair made a disapproving sound, Fontaine sighed lightly and looked back at him, still looking amused despite the bit of tiredness creeping in around his eyes. "Look, the moment they get Rapture AA up an' runnin', I'll be first in line." He said, holding his free hand to his heart. "Scout's honor."

"My voluptuous hindquarters you were a scout." Sinclair muttered, cracking a smile when Fontaine laughed.

"You know, for someone who supposedly enjoys my company, you sure do call me out on my bullshit alot." Fontaine said, taking Sinclair's glass as they reached his bedroom.

"For someone so full'a shit, you sure do like spendin' time with someone who doesn't take it." Sinclair countered, smiling when Fontaine gave him a rare sincerely pleased smile.

"Guess I do." Fontaine hummed, opening the door to his room. "Make yourself comfy, Sin. I'll be right back with that martini."

Watching Fontaine leave without so much as a sway to his step despite all the alcohol in his system, Sinclair shook his head and walked into the bedroom. It bothered him, how genuinely concerned he sometimes found himself for Fontaine. They were rivals, sure, but their relationship was-- complicated, to say the least. Fontaine didn't treat him like a business rival, he treated him like a friend. If Sinclair wasn't so sure of his own ability to resist such things, he'd think it was a tactic to make him go easier on the younger man in the business part of their lives. As it was, even ignoring his own ability to keep work and play separate, he'd always gotten the distinct feeling that Fontaine would be terribly cross with him should their personal relationship affect how they competed with eachother.

All in all, as weird as the relationship was, it was also nice. It did Sinclair more good than he'd probably ever admit to have someone he could be even partially himself around. Most people only got the sickly sweet smile and oozing Southern charm, a select few got the dominatrix, only Fontaine had ever gotten to the see the snake. Sighing lightly to himself, Sinclair took his clothes off and set them aside. He hunted down Fontaine's lube, deciding to save the younger man the trouble of getting it once he was hot and bothered, lord knew Frank Fontaine was one impatient son of a bitch when he was hot and bothered, and arranged himself on the bed, making sure to get his best angle while keeping his general appearance casual.

When Fontaine came into the room a moment later, he nearly dropped the glass he was carrying. Sinclair smirked at him and stretched himself out a bit, giving Fontaine a glimpse of the delicate blue lace cradling his package before sitting up and crossing one leg over the other to hide it again. "'Bout time, Franky." He teased, grinning as Fontaine came closer, a hungry look in those brown eyes. "I was startin' to worry you really were out of gin."

Chuckling breathlessly, Fontaine handed Sinclair his drink and sat down beside him. "The strawberries were back downstairs." He explained, smiling when Sinclair snorted and covered his mouth to hide it.

"Damn it, Frank!" Sinclair shouted, laughing between looking at Fontaine angrily. "I was tryin' to be sexy n' you go and make me laugh all unladylike."

Grinning, Fontaine ran his hand slowly from Sinclair's knee to his thigh. "You're even sexier when ya laugh."

Humming softly as he got his laughter under control, Sinclair sipped his martini. "How about a show, Franky?" He suggested, putting his free hand behind himself and leaning against it as Fontaine raised a curious eyebrow at him. "Strip."

Grinning, Fontaine stood back up and faced Sinclair. He fairly quickly got his vest unbuttoned and let it slide off his shoulders. Then he loosened his tie a bit before pulling his shirt collar away from it. Fontaine slowly unbuttoned each button of his shirt and turned away from Sinclair, letting the shirt slide off like the vest had. He heard Sinclair hum in appreciation as he flexed a bit and then turned around once more, a smirk still gracing his face. He swayed his hips a little before undoing his belt and whipping it out of the loops all at once. Sinclair gasped softly, whether for show or not, Fontaine didn't know, and he slowly opened his pants up.

Sinclair was blushing quite a bit as he watched Fontaine make a right proper show of getting naked and Fontaine took that as his proof that he was doing a good job. He kicked off his shoes and socks and then let his slacks drop, revealing his half-hard cock straining a bit against his underwear. Fontaine hooked his thumbs in his underwear waistband and pulled down slow enough that the waistband caught his cock and pulled it down. When he finally got the waistband off his cock, it sprang up and Sinclair let out an audible purr-like rumble.

Strutting shamelessly back up to Sinclair, Fontaine plucked his empty glass from his hands and tossed it aside, not caring even a little that it shattered somewhere across the room. That broke the spell he'd put on Sinclair and the older man laughed, shaking his head at Fontaine. "Really? There's so many places you coulda set that." He said, flushing darker and backing up as Fontaine started to crawl towards him.

"I'm an animal, remember?" Fontaine said, pouncing on Sinclair once he was in the perfect position to land safely against the pillows and immediately going for his neck as Sinclair squealed in delight. He started kissing and biting the soft skin before catching one of the tiny, delicate straps holding up the brassiere making Sinclair's chest look nice and perky between his teeth and giving it a light tug.

"Why'd you leave the tie?" Sinclair asked, a laugh in his voice as he gently tugged on the tie still hanging loosely around Fontaine's neck. When Fontaine growled lowly and bumped their hips together, bringing both of their erections together for one glorious moment of friction, Sinclair let out a surprised breath. "Oh." He breathed, tugging the tie again and moaning as Fontaine now ground their hips together for a much longer bit of friction.

"You're so fuckin' pretty, Sin." Fontaine breathed as he pulled away and looked down at Sinclair, his eyes roving over every inch of dark skin cradled in powder blue lace.

"Get that sweet-talkin' mouth down here." Sinclair purred, using Fontaine's tie to pull him down into a deep kiss that Fontaine eagerly returned. The kiss quickly evolved to include tongue as Fontaine pressed for entrance into Sinclair's mouth and Sinclair granted it. All too quickly, though, it was over and Fontaine was pulling away, slightly breathless and with a certain twinkle in his eyes that made Sinclair fear for his lingerie.

"I'd hate to ruin your lovely panties, but if you don't get 'em off--" Fontaine started, deciding not to finish that thought when Sinclair gave him a warning look.

"Move back, you great brute." Sinclair said, pushing on Fontaine's chest and rolling over onto his stomach when Fontaine moved. "One of the very few cons of this lovely figure of mine is that they simply don't make pretty lacy numbers like this in my size." Sinclair started, spreading his legs a bit as he spoke. "Luckily I happen to be fond enough of lookin' pretty to splurge on custom tailored panties." He continued, reaching back to reveal a very convenient slit in the back of said panties. "Which means I can add little details like this."

"You're a man after my own heart, Mr. Sinclair." Fontaine said happily, having already lubed his fingers up while Sinclair was spreading himself out. He pushed the slit open with one hand and got to work prepping Sinclair with the other.

"You'd be surprised how often I get that." Sinclair replied, easily taking two of Fontaine's fingers right off the bat and sighing softly in pleasure as Fontaine quickly worked him loose enough to take a third.

"Don't think I would." Fontaine countered, eyes drinking in the view of Sinclair's ample ass all perked up and ready for him. "I think you play the sweet people pleaser often enough to get told that at least once a week."

Frowning, Sinclair looked over his shoulder at Fontaine. "You been spyin' on me again, Franky?" He asked, eyes narrowed and tone entirely serious though fairly light.

"Nah." Fontaine replied, removing his fingers to lube himself up. "I pulled all my moles 'bout a month ago."

Scoffing, Sinclair was trapped between looking incredulous and suspicious. "You didn't have any moles in Solutions." He said, managing to keep up his expression even when Fontaine started pressing the head of his cock to his hole.

"I did." Fontaine said, sinking easily into Sinclair in one long thrust. " _Fuck_." He breathed, holding Sinclair's hips with a gentleness he reserved for Sinclair and new lays exclusively. "I had a person in every department except marketin'." Fontaine continued, starting up a slow pace. "I'd'a done marketin' too, but ya only had like two people on the whole team."

"You are the absolute worst." Sinclair breathed, laying his head on his folded arms while Fontaine slowly rocked into him. "But it isn't as though I haven't got any moles of my own."

"Oh, I know." Fontaine replied, speeding up a bit and tightening his grip just a little. "I like the marketin' guy you sent in. He's a little spacey but he gives solid advice."

"Bullshit!" Sinclair said, looking over his shoulder at Fontaine again. "You don't know which one is mine."

Raising an eyebrow at Sinclair, Fontaine adjusted his position so he was just barely brushing against Sinclair's prostate with every in thrust. "It's Ross." He said, grinning when Sinclair pouted and looked away again.

"Lucky guess." Sinclair muttered, starting to lose his breath from the unusually teasing pace Fontaine had going.

"Kennedy in research." Fontaine said, picking up the pace a bit. "Lorne in development. Ashton in filing. Lee in security." He listed off, getting a little faster and harder with every name he listed off. "Should I keep goin'?"

"You're a bastard." Sinclair said breathlessly, rocking his hips back into Fontaine's thrusts despite his assertion and reaching down to free his cock from his panties so he didn't stretch them out.

"Yeah." Fontaine granted, pausing with just the head of his cock inside Sinclair and leaning over him to whisper in his ear. "Ya love me though." He murmured, slamming forward before Sinclair could reply and finally getting around to making good on his promise to pound Sinclair into his mattress. As planned, Sinclair's only response was a loud moan and then the only sounds that filled the room were the wet sounds of sex and both men's various vocalizations.

Once both men were sated, they moved on to snuggling together, Fontaine's bed large enough for both of them to lay comfortably away from the pool of cooling cum. Sinclair was on his side, pressed up against Fontaine's side with the younger man's arm under his head. Fontaine was tracing idle patterns into Sinclair's back while he smoked and Sinclair played idly with the spattering of dark hairs on his chest. Despite the banter they'd shared before really getting down to business, the air around them was comfortable and content.

Still, something that he often thought about after his and Fontaine's little meetings was bothering Sinclair. "How come you're more interested in rearrangin' my organs than wringin' company secrets from me?" He asked, looking up at Fontaine's calm face and lightly tugging the hairs he was playing with when Fontaine lightly scratched his back. "I mean, you bother with plantin' moles in my company, so you're clearly interested in my secrets."

Humming a little, Fontaine blew out a lungful of smoke and fixed Sinclair with an intense, uncharacteristically serious look. "I told you before, Sin, life ain't strictly business."

Letting out a breath as he was lost in Fontaine's dark brown eyes, Sinclair nodded slowly. Then his mind caught up with him and he smiled, smacking Fontaine on the chest. "That ain't an answer, Franky. Those are some grade-a question dodgin' skills ya got though, ya almost threw me off."

Intense look gone in an instant, Fontaine grinned and shrugged. "S'the best answer you're gonna get."

"I know." Sinclair admitted, leaning up to peck the corner of Fontaine's mouth before getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

A couple weeks later Sinclair was sitting at his desk in his office, sorting through paperwork and the like when his secretary's voice came through the little speaker on the corner of the desk. "Mr. Sinclair, Mr. Kane is calling. He says it's urgent."

"Doesn't he always?" Sinclair sighed, picking up the phone near the speaker. "Put 'im through." The speaker clicked off and when the phone clicked on, Sinclair put on his usual honey-sweet business voice. "I wasn't expectin' a call from you again so soon, Kane. Don't tell me there's somethin' wrong with your shipment?"

"Hey, Sin." A familiar voice, though definitely not Kane's voice, said quietly from the other end of the phone, making Sinclair straighten up in surprise.

"Franky?" He asked, frowning at his phone.

"Yeah. Sorry I lied to Mx. Velez, but I'm sorta supposed to be gettin' gunned down in Fisheries right about now, so I couldn't exactly let 'em know it was me callin'." Fontaine replied, his voice far too casual for what he'd just said.

"I'm sorry, I must've misheard you." Sinclair said, frowning all the more. "You're supposed to be doin' **what** now?" He wasn't really sure how to feel when Fontaine laughed softly at his confusion.

"I can't really give you too many details, but I'm fakin' my death pretty soon." Fontaine said, not pausing long enough for Sinclair to cut in. "I just-- wanted **you** to know. Not many other people do. Just Reggie, Steinman, and the patsy wearin' my face over in Fisheries."

"You-- Frank, what have you gotten yourself into?" Sinclair hissed, lowering his voice as much as he dared.

"Nothin' I didn't set up, Sin, don't worry." Fontaine replied, Sinclair hearing some shuffling before Fontaine's voice got even quieter. "Look, I gotta go now, I--"

"Wait!" Sinclair whisper-yelled, hurrying one when Fontaine stopped talking. "At least tell me what's gonna happen to you, Franky." There was a long pause and Sinclair was afraid Fontaine had hung up but then he spoke again.

"All I can tell you is to keep an eye on Atlas."

Sinclair started to say that that didn't make any sense, started to demand a clear answer, but the line died right after Fontaine stopped talking and he was left with confusion and frustration and probably alot less comfort than Fontaine had hoped he'd get from the phone call. Hanging up the phone, Sinclair leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand over his meticulously gelled hair. Well, nothing to do for it now, he supposed, except "keep an eye on Atlas", whatever the hell that meant, and hope that Fontaine hadn't gotten himself into more trouble than he could handle.

It took maybe a week after that phone call for Sinclair to figure out what Fontaine had meant and he decided, even taking into account that he knew himself, that Frank Fontaine was the pettiest man he knew.

**Author's Note:**

> I mean, did I even write it if Fontaine doesn't say "fuck" in italics during the sex scene? I think not.


End file.
